When The Smoke Clears
by Singer of Time
Summary: Michael Afton wakes up, after a long and terrifying journey to end his father's atrocities...now, lingering in the afterlife, there are quite a few faces that he never thought he'd see...and all of them have some things left to face. A one-shot taking place directly after FNAF 6.


((AN: And here's the other FNAF fanfic that I'd been working on. x3 **Warning: This story contains spoilery references to the other games and to the end of FNAF 6. Read at your peril.**

So, as I've said, I'd been pretty well drawn into the lore of the games, and I got this idea after seeing the true ending to Freddy's Pizzeria Simulator, AKA FNAF 6, and also having watched some very intriguing (and mostly on the mark, according to Word of God) Game Theory videos. x3

There's a very plausible and hinted-to thought that Michael Afton, the son of the Purple Guy (named William Afton in the novelization and in canon since Sister Location), was not only the protagonist of Sister Location and Simulator, but was in fact the Night Guard in all of the other games, just under different names to disguise his identity in an effort to clean up the murderer's messes. And if this is true, he is without a doubt one of the most awesome video game characters in existence. x3 And doubly so as since the Crying Child in FNAF 4 is said to also be one of William's children, which makes Michael the older brother...needless to say, between that, getting scooped, and clinging to life just to be menaced by robots...he's been through a _whole lot of crap._

I imagine he deserves some catharsis. So I just had the idea of giving him some, emotionally-charged as it would be. I also gave a name to the Crying Child, as his name hasn't been released at all, at least yet in canon. I borrowed some traits from the Charlie in The Silver Eyes novel for the game-canon Charlie, as the book is an AU of the games, but the important characters are connected in both. The names for the children, I got from the names on the in-game secret Lorekeeper end screen; I only guessed which of them were in which robots. x3

So yeah, I hope this is enjoyed! Keep your tissues handy. XD All characters belong to Scott Cawthon.))

* * *

When The Smoke Clears

 _"..._ _This ends. For all of us. End communication."_

Michael Afton could only imagine what the heat could feel like right now, as he looked at the rising temperature gauge on his screen. He hadn't really _felt_ anything in so long...but as everything electrical around him started to malfunction, and the flames started to lick at the seams of the walls and the smoke rose from beneath the doors and through every ventilation duct, he still suddenly remembered how warm that fire could feel...even when you looked at it.

And then, there was the warmth that was filling his mind now as he stood in the tiny room, shriveled undead hands holding his stolen-and-reclaimed body above the desk, after the echoes of the voice of his mysterious employer...a voice he'd finally recognized...had long died out on the cassette player.

 _At last. At...last._

He could hear them now, their part-mechanical-part-human screams echoing across the corridors outside and through the vents that they'd used to menace him, as well as the erratic, slamming movements akin to a terrified animal vibrating the very walls.

 _That_ one, he figured, was the inhuman amalgam that his father had become...trying and failing to cling to the mortal coil while the fires eat him alive, as they'd failed to do at the folly of Fazbear's Fright. He could swear that he heard the murderer's final anguished cries amidst those of the animatronic monsters in the halls.

 _Good._

If he'd had the energy to curl his fists in the rush of retribution, he would have. But no...now wasn't the time for emotion, be it anger or joy or sorrow.

The flames had begun to eat at the room, tearing it apart. There was an orange glow on all sides, and the air shimmered with the heat that he couldn't feel. Smoke started to claim all in sight.

No...now was the time, as the calmly-determined voice had commanded, to be still. He was almost meditative now at that...just waiting for it to finally happen.

The fire had found its way across the floor, and was catching the lines of his clothes.

 _...I suppose I've already suffered the worst of death. I am done now. THEY are done. Them...me...HIM...take us all away. Please._

 _Please._

The fire engulfed everything, and the cries had long died down. His sight was drowned in fire...his body, no longer able to hold itself up by only the will of his spirit, fell.

Warm, glowing orange...the sense of release...

And then, darkness.

* * *

When Michael opened his eyes again, he still saw mostly darkness, and felt...well, he knew he couldn't _really_ feel, that perhaps he was just remembering his senses as they were in life, manifesting themselves here in...wherever he was. But it all felt real enough to him, in this fully ethereal place.

 _...I don't suppose this is Heaven; don't really think I'm bound for it. Doesn't really feel like Hell, either. Might be Purgatory...or Limbo, whatever it's supposed to be called._

Everything around him seemed to be made of naught but infinite space. Gray-and-black shifting patterns took over his eyesight, and there seemed to be a horizon made of a soft, white glow, almost warm and comforting to feel.

He stood and looked up, around, everywhere, just getting a sense of the space within which he found his own spirit. Then he looked down, and his hands were...they looked just as they did when he was last alive. Not ragged, not desiccated, not covered in a rotten purple hue...he touched his face, ran fingers through messy black-brown hair, tugged at a gray cotton shirt-sleeve, and finally let out a disbelieving huff.

 _It's true...I AM free of that mess. I'm just me again._

His eyes closed, and he allowed himself to feel the elation, the dream-like sensation of being separated from mortality, and of the life that he'd forced himself to follow...even through the sheer sense of determined vengeance and justice, into undeath.

He still wondered what he was to do, and where he was destined to go now...but he allowed himself a smile. _Wherever it is...I know that everything's better now,_ _back there_ _. I feel it will stay that way, and that I've done all that I could to make sure of it. For that...thank God._

So lost in his calm, silent elation and his thoughts, and in the questions behind his wandering eyes, that he barely even heard the rising laughter of children headed towards him. Somewhere nearby, it was as if they were playing tag, or just chasing each other around with boundless energy.

He didn't hear as they stopped abruptly a little ways away, either, ceasing their jubilation with some shock and surprise.

But he _did_ hear when a tiny quiet voice, _so very familiar,_ gasped in his direction.

 _"...Mikey?"_

Michael's head snapped up, and he turned slowly with wide eyes to see a small group of children, five of them, standing closely together and bathed in spiritual light...but still as solid as they would have appeared in life. He couldn't see their faces, as they were each wearing a mask. Masks that, he noticed with a shocked intake of breath, looked like each of the original beloved animatronic characters of Freddy Fazbear's Pizza. Four boys and one girl...through their faces, each set of eyes watched, wary of him.

 _..._ _It's them...t_ _he children._

It was the young boy wearing the golden Fredbear mask that had addressed him. He lifted it to rest it on his head, and a face that Michael never forgot...never _could_ forget, however he tried...was staring at him with shock, eyes brimming with familiar tears. The neat brown hair lighter than his own, the blue jean shorts and t-shirt with black-and-gray stripes...

The child looked exactly like the last time he'd seen him alive and whole.

After what seemed like a long pause to take in that he was looking at his lost little brother, a tiny smile couldn't help but appear on Michael's face. "H'llo, squirt."

Before the child could reply, his shoulder was lightly grabbed by the boy wearing the Freddy Fazbear mask, and he whispered a question into his ear. Immediately, the kid's head shook. "Nuh-uh, that's not _him;_ that's my big brother."

Michael only shook his own head, letting a breath out in a silent laugh. _Curse this family, I forget that I look a lot like Father. They're afraid of me._

Seemingly a little hesitant, the Freddy-masked boy nonetheless let the kid go so that he could walk up to him, a smile on his face as he tilted his head at the young-adult looking man. "Mikey, that _is_ you, right? It's me! Remember?"

Michael was finding it a little harder by the minute to find his voice. "Yes; it's me too, Timothy."

The youngster beamed. "I hoped I'd see you again." He let out a bit of a giggle and the older man was quite a bit surprised; he didn't think that he'd _ever_ seen his little brother so chipper before. If he was expecting anything from him, it would have been a more sour expression, or anger, or just sadness...but no...he was actually _smiling._ It was more than jarring, to his heart and to his mind.

The kid looked him up and down and up again, a little impressed. "You got _big."_

The brother's smile got a little wider, and he knelt down to Timothy's eye level. "Heh...and _you_ haven't changed at all...very much." Slowly, disbelief making him shake, Michael let his hand drop onto the child's hair, and made him laugh as he ruffled it. He marveled at the touch of his brother's head, whole and without a single mark of the injury that sent him into a nightmare-fueled coma and eventually took his life.

 _...Th_ _e injury that_ _was MY fault._

In an effort to lighten his own mood, Michael couldn't help the old smirk that came to his face, and the observation he made. "...And you're still crying, I see."

Timothy stuck out his tongue and shoved his hand off, self-consciously wiping the tears from his cheeks. "Yeah, but _now_ it's 'cause I'm happy." He then stopped, and his laughing face fell into one of worry. " _You're_ crying now though."

And Michael, at this point, couldn't hold in those tears. He couldn't remember ever crying before in his young life, at least not in front of anyone who could put him down for it. After trying and failing to hide his face, his body shaking, he gently pulled the boy in front of him into a tight embrace, draining himself of the long-held-back pain and guilt that had turned him into a nigh-soulless wreck for years; the guilt that their father had used to drive him to his demise.

"I'm sorry..." he sobbed softly into his little brother's shoulder, taking shaky breaths in and out, unable to let him go again. "I'm _so_ sorry, Timothy...I'm _so sorry_..."

The boy, at first confused at his brother's sudden shift of intense emotion, remembered _exactly_ what he could be sorry for, and hugged him back as far as his arms would go, squeezing, himself starting to let loose tears of sorrow; this time not for himself, but the young man in front of him.

"Don't be sorry, Mikey," he pleaded, "You didn't know what would happen, I don't think."

Michael sniffed, holding him tighter. "But...it was so stupid...I shouldn't h-...if I could go back, I would _never_ have..."

"You were just a kid too and it was just a stupid prank, Mikey, like all the other ones," Timothy interrupted, pulling back to look him in the eye. "Besides, I heard you say sorry before, and it was okay then too. And _I'm_ okay now, okay? So don't be sad. You were _never_ sad."

The older brother laughed out the few tears that were left and wiped them on his sleeve. "You'd really forgive me, just like that? Tim, you..." he blinked. "You really heard me? When you were...?"

"Yeah," Timothy nodded. "And I saw you too, before."

Looking down at him, getting a glimpse of the Fredbear mask, Michael's memory jumped back to the nights he spent trying to avoid the notice of the deadly possessed animatronics in the previous restaurants...back when, sometimes, he would hear the jumbled murmurings of a ghost, or see "It's Me" written randomly on the walls or scrambled in the haze of his own hallucinations, right with the eyeless, lifeless suit of the old golden bear...

He felt a shiver come and go, and he met Timothy's small, smiling face with a smile of his own. "I heard you, too. Heh...scared the ever-loving devil out of me, little man..."

The child's head shook. "I _wanted_ to scare you back, after what you did...but I found out you were there to help, so I just tried to talk to you too, after a while. I wanted to let you know it was okay, but...I guess I still scared you."

 _Of course_ _you did_ _..._ "Well, not _that_ much...but...I deserved it...I did. And had I only known..."

"It's okay," he said again. "You're okay now too."

Then, the younger Afton sibling smiled again, banishing the solemnity of the moment. "My friends and I were waiting for you, after we were all free."

"Oh...yes..." Michael murmured, wiping his face once more as he looked up and faced the other children, still staring and wary, and still wearing those masks. He wondered what could be going on inside each of their minds. Do they remember _him_ , out of probably many night guards that they'd seen while trapped in the bodies of robots, as the one that had tinkered with their controls to make them calmer, tried to speak to them and failed?

 _And got fired for my troubles,_ he mentally added with a sigh. _Probably not._ _But at least, in part, I succeeded_ _._

Then, while wondering what he could possibly say to the other four unfortunate victims of his father's menacing, he glanced back and forth at the scenery, which was glowing a little brighter with each new soul entering. "Ah, actually...I think there's supposed to be a few more of you around, too."

Timothy's look turned into a bit of confusion. "Who's that?"

Then, as if on cue after a second, two new voices came up from behind everyone.

"Oh, there they are."

"Mikey! _Timmy!"_

For just a split second upon hearing the voice calling his name, Timothy's eyes widened, brimming with tears that were not only ecstatic, but fervent.

And then, Michael felt himself bowled over by the exuberant weight of another child, with a pair of arms wrapping his waist in a tight embrace. He was overwhelmed now by the laughter of not one, but _both_ of his younger siblings as they dog-piled him in an effort to get all of them together, as closely as possible, after _so very long,_ and through so much pain and suffering. Elizabeth's vibrant giggles mingled with Tim's happy sobbing, and Michael was holding them both in his arms, his body shaking and wrecking itself with his own laughter, and his tears just couldn't be held back, anymore, _ever._

"I thought I'd never see you again, Lizzy..." Tim bawled. "I thought I'd see you when I got here, but I didn't, you were still _there_ and _trapped_ and..."

"Timmy, it's okay, I'm okay...!" she was laughing more than either of them were, as if she didn't exactly _know_ what they were going through...and that was to be expected. She was so young when she died; and when she was trapped in the machination that was Circus Baby, she'd been all too eager to follow in their father's footsteps. But the vicious, almost insane animatronic couldn't possibly have just been _her..._ Michael hoped that it wasn't, that she wouldn't be able to recall what had happened back on Earth.

She had just woken up from a long nap...nothing more.

Elizabeth pulled back to look at both of her brothers, as real as she was long ago, a smiling and innocent face framed with wavy gold hair. Then, she let out another giggle and touched Michael's face. "Mikey, what happened? You look _old._ "

His chuckle was wet, filled with emotion, as he wiped at his eyes. "I did a lot to get that way, Elizabeth. I'm still me."

There were no words to come to the siblings at that moment; only the sense of togetherness, the feeling that they were finally now a real family instead of the _face_ of a family that they'd all been before, in life...Michael just held them close, felt them, heard their laughter, and if he wasn't convinced that they were all now in a place where they could never be hurt again, he'd vow never to let either of them go.

 _I don't know if I deserve this, but...thank you for it,_ he prayed.

Over on the sidelines, the four masked children still watched, quiet even though they wished to speak, wondered if they should, if they even owed the son of their murderer any kind of acknowledgement. They glanced between one another, and back at the Afton siblings, and decided that it was probably just appropriate to let them have their moment; considering where they were, after all.

"Dang...you'd never think those kids were raised by a monster."

The kids suddenly whipped their heads around to face the one who was speaking, and could only stare with wide eyes inside each of their masks. A tall girl, only a little older than them, probably, was looking at them from behind the mask of the Marionette; each of them still held in their memories the dark, eyeless, clown-like face of the spindly robot whose presence (despite its unnerving appearance) was always strangely calming. Wherever they all were, they could always feel the puppet somewhere, watching over them. Wherever it seemed to go, they went too.

Now, though, behind the eyes of the mask they could see a pair of regular, brown human eyes. The girl appeared to smile as she, like Timothy did before, pulled it up to reveal her face, framed by short dark-brown hair. Her smile was a little sad, but somehow strong, as she regarded the youngsters that she'd kept in her charge for countless years.

"'Sup, guys?" she greeted with a bit of a wry grin, and each of the four children gasped.

One by one, they too revealed the faces under their masks. She remembered each of their names like a light switch in her memory: Freddy was Gabriel. Chica was Susie. Foxy was Fritz. Bonnie was Jeremy. She could almost cry at how real and alive they all looked within the soft glow around each of them, if she didn't want to also laugh at the dumbfounded looks on their faces.

"... _Charlie?_ " Gabriel choked out, mouth still agape. " _You_ were the-?"

"-Um, yeah," the girl guiltily nodded and shrugged, unable to say much more until they had gotten their surprise—and their conviction about her—out of their systems.

"The puppet," Jeremy piped up beside Gabe, as much a second-in-command in their group as Bonnie had always been to Freddy. He shoved forward and stuck his finger up in her face. " _You_ were the puppet. The one that trapped us all in the suits! We weren't able to get out or...or, _move on_ , or anything...!"

"Jeremy..." Susie started, putting a calm hand on his shoulder. "I think she was just trying to help...you know her, remember? She's our friend."

" _Was_ our friend..." he muttered back.

"C'mon," Fritz then piped up, though a little more quietly, rubbing his own shoulder self-consciously. "Let's hear her out, though...she _might_ have had a good reason."

"Yeah, let's hear her," Susie agreed. Jeremy, who still looked uncertain about it, turned his gaze along with the others to Gabriel.

As they could always remember, he made the decision easy. "I think I know why she did it, but...yeah, let's hear what she has to say. We're all here and together again now, so I think just like them," He nodded over to the Afton siblings (who were sitting together now just listening to all of this) and crossed his arms, "We're all kinda forgiving everybody and listening to stories and stuff...so, yeah. Charlie? What exactly...I mean, _how did..._?"

"Guess you're asking me all the things, huh?" she couldn't help but snicker. "Fair enough; I owe you guys that...so...I'll start from the beginning and try to make it short.

"Yeah...I was the puppet all along. I don't really know how it happened...the last thing I remember from being _really_ alive was watching everyone having fun in the pizzeria...from outside, in the rain and dark." Her face fell. "I...nobody could hear or see me calling to be let in. And nobody heard when..."

Suddenly, she shuddered violently and had to force back a sob that was starting to choke her throat, and her hand clutched at her chest, over where her heart would be. Susie and Fritz took a step forward in concern, but stopped when she lifted her head and spoke again with a long sniff.

"Next thing I know, I'm not in my body. I'm in the puppet. And...I'm afraid. And _angry_. And the puppet itself is...concerned, wanting to protect all the kids from some horrible thing, but it couldn't... _we_ couldn't. And then...and then he...got _you guys,_ and..."

The sob came again, and this time a couple of tears did get released. She took a breath and opened her eyes to notice all four of them looking just about as sad as she was getting. Even Jeremy had dropped his arms to his sides to just listen.

"...I guess the puppet and I just became one _thing_ , because then I just remember almost mindlessly moving around...finding each of you, alone and scared, wandering in the dark...I wanted to keep you safe, cheer you up...I put each of you in the suits of your favorite robots, saw you happy when you played their parts during the day for the kids...then I saw you sad when they stopped coming...then I saw you just...get lost in your pain, at night, whenever you thought you saw...well, _him,_ again, in the faces of the night guards. I just...I couldn't bear to see you all as monsters, but I also knew I didn't have a choice but to stay and watch over all of you, even when the robots were destroyed, and your suits were abandoned...and even when you should have moved on, you all still stayed with me..."

It was right then that Charlie fell to her knees. The kids all moved forward; Susie had a hand on one shoulder, Gabriel had another shoulder, Fritz and Jeremy were just closer...

The older girl let out an ironic laugh and swiped at her tears with her hoodie sleeve. "I just wanted to help...you were all alone, just like I was, and I didn't know how much all of you were hurting...and how much we all just wanted...closure, revenge, _something_ that never came...I..." her head shook. "I'm just...I'm sorry, guys."

That was when all four of them hugged her at once. They were crying, too, even when they tried to hide their faces just the same.

"S'not your fault," said Jeremy first, surprising her. "Like you said...we were all...angry, and sad, and you were just trying to help..."

"And you did..." said Gabriel. "We knew _something_ was there, watching over us...and it still _was_ fun to be Freddy and everybody, for even a little while...feel like we were alive again..."

"We'd have done the same thing, maybe," Fritz added, hugging her tight. "We _had_ to stay with you. You were the only thing we ever _knew._ "

"And now we're all free, and you're with us again, and we're really _really_ happy for that too, Charlie," said Susie, her voice the closest to a full-on cry. "And we're sorry you were left all alone. I don't think anybody _meant_ to...and then you went missing, and...we missed you so much...!"

And Charlie was just...overwhelmed, to say the least, at the sincere emotions spilling out from these kids, her friends. She couldn't help but laugh as she hugged them all back, as many of them as her arms could fit around. "It's okay now, you guys. Don't worry about it. It's okay...always knew it would be."

"See? Now Charlie's happy," said Timmy as he glanced back to his siblings with a smile, after the three of them had noticed that the four other children had taken off their masks to confront her; they'd been sitting and observing, and as the young boy had vocalized for all of them, were also quite relieved to see that they, too, were getting their catharsis.

Michael had been slightly surprised to see that it was the daughter of Henry, his father's business partner, who had been in the puppet the whole time; but then again, he figured he shouldn't have been. Everyone that had ever been _remotely_ close to his family and to the Freddy Fazbear name had been hurt or affected in some way.

He was briefly taken out of his darker thoughts by the sight of Elizabeth, who was carefully looking around, all of a sudden. Her brow furrowed, and she had a frown as she turned back to him. "Hey, Mikey...where's Daddy? Isn't he coming too?"

A tense silence followed as Michael and Timothy exchanged a glance; it would be a little hard to reveal the truth to the girl. She'd been the closest out of all of them to their father, and she'd seemed to be the only one to whom he'd showed true affection instead of an almost detached care.

Michael took a deep breath and looked into her hopeful green eyes. _This isn't the place for lies._ "...No, Elizabeth...Father's...had to go to a _different_ place, since..."

"...He went to Hell," said a sudden and very blunt voice from next to them. The siblings turned to see the children and Charlie now having come closer, though respectfully spaced out, as though there were a few other things hanging around in the air.

All eyes were now on Jeremy, dripping with incredulity. He whipped his head between all of them and shrugged. "What? I didn't cuss; it's a _place_ name."

The other kids snorted and gave him a shove, and Charlie had to snicker while addressing the Aftons, pointing a thumb back at him. "I mean, he's got a point."

"There _was_ a sore lack of tact," Michael pointed out with a smirk.

Elizabeth, however, was just a bit confused at the outburst, until she thought about it for a moment, and then turned to Timmy with her lips pressed together. "Oh...'cause he did bad things."

All that the younger boy could do was nod solemnly, which only confirmed the girl's fears. "...Oh," she breathed out again, still wrapped in youthful disbelief that a trusted adult and parent could have done wrong. But she still had _some_ recollection of her father and what his animatronic masterpieces could do, all of it he'd described with such wonderful words that it had always been hard for her to focus on the unsettling parts of them. Now that she remembered those parts, it was all too clear.

 _..._ _I'd said I wanted to make Daddy proud...but...what was I going to DO...?_

"...I did bad things too..." her voice, suddenly tiny and shrill, started to go into a sob.

"Lizzy..." Susie said, trying to be comforting and ending up sounding rather sad herself, "...We _all_ did bad things. But I don't think we're in the bad _place..._ else we wouldn't all be together, right...?"

"Yeah," Fritz said as he bent to meet her eyes, "You'll be fine...I think..."

Elizabeth had heard these soft, kind words, brought on by the other children...but her breath still hitched, her lip trembled, and she couldn't help but start to hunch into herself as the memories came flooding back.

 _I even...killed..._

But, she was suddenly drawn out of her sadness by the touch of her older brother's hand on her head (as he'd instantly noticed what she might have been thinking). She felt him brush through her hair, and she leaned into his touch, having never felt such comfort from him before.

"Lizzy...don't worry, alright...?" She looked into his eyes again, hearing him speak. " _I'm_ here now, and so is Timothy. And you're meant to be here _with_ us. The pain is over. It's no use dwelling about it, or _him,_ or what you might have done; it's all in the past." Michael's smile, reminiscent of their father's, was _nothing_ like it; genuine kindness and love painted his face. "Okay?"

The tears were flowing freely down her cheeks now. "But...I... _killed you,_ Mikey..."

A pang went through his heart at these familiar words. He almost reiterated that he deserved it...but instead, he gently cupped her chin in his fingers. "That wasn't _you._ You were in there, but you weren't in control. That amalgam of parts, that _thing_ that made you part of it...it was _them._ If you'd been truly yourself in there, I know you wouldn't have done it. It was never _you_ I blamed; we all loved you, and we still do. Now it's set right, and we're all free...aren't we, little sis?"

Through her sadness, she managed a shaky smile, and nodded as she let herself be drawn back into a hug.

"Seriously, I've cried myself out enough, sheesh..." said Charlie as she sniffed.

With a snort, Michael released his sister with one more squeeze and a small pat on her back as he stood up again to peer down at the strong-willed, short-haired girl that he remembered so well. Because their fathers were business partners, with one to run the business and the other to create the animatronics, it wasn't too far-fetched that the siblings had somewhat known Charlie...but, that didn't mean that they'd always gotten along. He figured by now that there were still a few barbs to take out of the whole situation.

"Charlotte," he greeted evenly.

"Mike," she nodded back, looking him over and putting her hands on her hips. She met his eyes again with a disbelieving scoff. "Whaddya know...the biggest jerk on the planet when he was a teenager, and he ends up dying a freakin' hero."

"I don't deny being a jerk," he said with a short laugh, "But you're more a hero than I ever was. What had I ever done but go around trying to clean up my father's mess?" He briefly looked into the intrigued eyes of each of the kids, who were scrutinizing him still. " _You_ did more for them. And perhaps even for Timothy."

Charlie hummed, tilting her head. "Yeah, but _boy_ did you clean up...I was _there_ to see, did you know that?"

"I know; as the Marionette," he crossed his arms and rose his brow at her, clearly impressed. "You were bloody hard to keep down in your box, Miss Vengeance."

She smirked proudly, also crossing her arms. "Not just _then._ I was also there the second time a pizzeria rose and fell again. I was there when _someone,_ going by a different name each time, fought off walking-dead robot monsters, got in there and messed with the suits, helped free us all, with your old man still out for blood...I saw it. I was there, Afton. Or should I say, Schmidt, or Smith...?"

Michael wasn't half as surprised at Charlie's sudden and mature manner of speaking as he was when she mentioned being there throughout his crusade; at every turn that he'd ever had to hear the name of Fazbear's, at every opportunity he waited for to draw his father out of hiding and _end_ him...

And then, it dawned in each of the children's eyes as well, just who they were looking at. "Oh my gosh, you were telling the truth," Gabriel said almost breathlessly to Timothy, who was looking rather proud.

Michael glanced to his brother questioningly, to which he giggled. "I'd tried to tell them all before that it was _you_ as the night guard they were chasing around those times, and not Father, but, I don't think they listened. Not even Charlie did for a while."

"Well, we sure as heck should have," said Gabriel, and he stepped forward in front of the other kids, wearing a somewhat sheepish look. "Hey, it's Mike, right...? Um...y'know, we're sorry about..."

He was silenced when Michael held up his hand. "I know...I know why all of you were doing it. It wasn't even all your fault." He smiled, again, sincerely. "Yes, it was an _incredibly_ terrifying ordeal for me, but it was something I was willing to face; I had to undo all the wrong that I could...that _he'd_ done against you." He sighed. "I'm only sorry that...it ever even happened in the first place."

"That wasn't _your_ fault either," Charlie said, and her calm matter-of-fact tone had to make him grin. "I know you think you don't deserve it, but you're owed a great deal of thanks. So...thanks. More than we can ever say."

Still in utter disbelief at the events surrounding himself, Michael just shook his head and chuckled quietly. As he did, he could feel his younger siblings each taking one of his hands, beaming with happiness...and from the faces of everyone, he saw the light of forgiveness; and from his family and Charlie, pride.

"I'm just happy to see _you_ haven't changed a bit either, Charlotte," he had to laugh.

She grinned. "Yeah, well, glad to say differently about _you._ You looked like a walking corpse when you were going through all that."

"I kinda was," he deadpanned, with his siblings nodding in confirmation beside him (Elizabeth had ducked into her shoulders a little, at that).

Her jaw dropped, and then finally she laughed. " _Dang,_ Mike..."

"Some sort of poetic irony, if you think about it," he continued, his smile turning lopsided, but then he shook his head. "I _still_ don't know how I took my body back, and didn't just die...I was either _that_ strong willed, or _that_ angry..."

"Knowing you, you were both," Charlie said with a roll of her eyes, and then just continued to laugh, long and hard, as if the past was now nothing scary, and had _everything_ to laugh at...and it couldn't help but pull everyone else in.

The warmth that settled over them, in spite of the darkness that they'd all lived through, had started to feel like a touch of Heaven's light. Their surroundings were now brighter than ever, like a sunrise that had touched every horizon in every direction.

Once the mirth had died down, it was Timothy who spoke up after meeting everyone's eyes. "I wonder what happens now...?"

"I believe that's up to all of _us._ "

The presence of an entirely new voice, and an _adult_ one this time, made each and every one of their heads swivel in its direction, each one all feeling different emotions inside. The children didn't seem to know the voice...but were understandably uneasy at the thought of facing a stranger.

Michael however (and Timothy and Elizabeth, to an extent) recognized it easily. And Charlotte...she was frozen solid, straight to where she stood, when the voice's owner appeared in the rising light.

Henry was never a very imposing man; but he had a serious demeanor that made it so practically anyone could listen to him. He appeared to pause and adjusted his glasses, though it was probably certain that he wouldn't need them to see anymore in _this_ world, it was still a part of his appearance that anyone close to him would be used to. The former co-owner of Freddy Fazbear's Pizza had a slightly awkward smile as he came up to the group...but the smile turned genuine as his eyes locked with Charlotte's.

The girl was silent for all but two seconds; then, with a sob, she ran to him. _"Dad!"_

He knelt to receive her in his arms, holding her tightly as his throat became constricted and emotional around his words—for the very first time that Michael had ever heard. "Charlotte..." he choked out, holding her for all it was worth, "It _is_ you...I...I _hoped_ you'd be here too, but..."

"Yeah...yeah, it's me, Dad..." Charlie all but sobbed out, clutching at him like she could never let go again.

The Afton siblings exchanged glances, knowing the feeling well. Timothy's smile just couldn't go away at the sight of everyone coming together, and everything becoming right again...Elizabeth smiled too, but still just clung to Michael's hand as she felt like she could do nothing else but watch.

The other children had varying degrees of confusion, until Susie spoke. "Hey, I think I heard his voice before..."

"Charlie's Dad, yeah...he was one of the people in charge, wasn't he?" Gabriel asked, glancing up to Michael.

He nodded in reply. "And not just that. He helped make all the robots and animatronics. He was sort of a friend of the family."

"Huh!" Fritz breathed out in interest and took off his Foxy mask to look at it for a minute. The children were in a bit of awe, seeing one of the people behind their favorite party and pizza franchise and its beloved characters, right there along with them. And when they thought about it longer, the more they recognized the voice from somewhere else...almost calling, just before everything had turned into an inferno in his wake...

After what seemed like an eternity to let their emotions settle, Henry released his daughter from his fervent grip and gestured toward the others. "...Is that all of them?"

She nodded, and the wry smile that he so loved and remembered in life was there again. "Yeah; all the kids were here when I came; them and Timmy. Elizabeth, too." She jerked a thumb in their direction. "Though, you probably didn't expect Mike."

There was a very brief, dumbfounded look that crossed Henry's eyes as he set them on the grinning man, before he let out a sigh and stood up. "No...I certainly didn't...but, somehow, I expected _somebody_ to have died with the rest of us."

"Henry," Michael greeted with a small chuckle, "Y'know, Boss, that's a very effective way to fire someone."

The father probably didn't expect to laugh as hard as he did at that, the sound forced out of his throat through the sheer euphoria of finally being free and seeing the fruit of his efforts. But as soon as it came, it quickly died into his usual calm chuckle, before he regarded Michael with a disbelieving shake of his head. "Michael Afton...last time I saw you alive, you weren't far out of your teens, just trying to live in your guilt and for your father's approval. And then you had to go and do all of this..." he waved his hands toward the youngsters around them. "I have to hand it to you, boy...had circumstances been any different...had none of this ever happened...you would have probably taken over the company and put William to shame."

The younger man shook his head, setting his lips in a determined line. "It _was_ fun, actually running my own place for a week, and seeing how it could have been without any incidents. Seeing families and little ones, having the characters around again...but..." he breathed, "It all had to end...I agree." He scowled very slightly. "I was just there to do it. Now, Father's been put in his place. Nobody will _ever_ be hurt again."

"And I have _you_ to thank for that...making sure they were all there, at the cost of your own life..."

"My life was lost long ago, Henry," Michael shrugged, simply exhausted now to even think about everything he had to go through. "I _couldn't_ be afraid."

The father, with an impressed smile, just reached up to squeeze his shoulder. "You're a more impressive kid than I could have imagined. I'm glad you were able to free yourself too, in the end, and in more ways than one."

With that, Henry looked around at all of the children and their jubilant and questioning faces, holding or wearing their favorite masks as an homage to the happy times that the pizzeria had brought to them, however few there seemed to be in the wake of their tragedies and those of many others. _At least I'll be happy knowing that they never blamed ALL of it. They still loved them._

"I'm glad to see that all of you are free," he began, sincerely. "...There are no words of apology that I could extend for what has happened. There's no amount of sadness and guilt that could bring you all back. But I hope that what I eventually did in the end...well, I hope it helped. And now...I believe you all have families waiting for you, on the other side."

Their eyes widened in happiness, each to a different degree welling with tears. "What do we gotta do?" asked Gabriel as he and the other three joined hands.

"Just pick a direction, I imagine," he smiled and gestured towards the bright horizon. "You'll find it."

And the kids, regaining their endless childhood euphoria, did just that. "Let's go, guys," said Gabe, and all together they turned and raced, their laughter echoing in the boundless, limitless void that they'd all been sitting in for what seemed like an eternity; and now they _had_ eternity, to enjoy the peace.

With that, Henry and his daughter turned together to the Afton siblings. "I'm sure there's a place for you three here too," he gently assured. "But, you also have a choice to try again. Maybe in your next lives you'll be able to do everything you were meant to do. But at least you have the choice, and I promise, it's well-deserved."

Taking a breath to quell the welling of emotion in his chest, Michael glanced first to Elizabeth, then to Timothy, and nodded. "I think we'll think on that, Henry," he finally said, sounding ever so tired, "...After we rest."

The older man smiled. "With that, I couldn't agree more."

And so on they walked into the distant light, following the laughter of the original four children; Elizabeth and Timmy even broke away to race after and join them, giggling in the happiness that they had been so denied when they were alive. _Th_ _at,_ to Michael, was the sound of Heaven if he believed it was there: a cacophony of freedom and innocence. As the warmth grew more enveloping and his world grew brighter, he only hoped that the one they left behind would gradually learn to appreciate it again.


End file.
